


Huge Waste of Time

by madamecrimson



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Crying, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, Graphic Description, Self-Harm, Spoilers, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamecrimson/pseuds/madamecrimson
Summary: (Possible?) spoilers if you haven't seen the most recent episode of Buzzfeed: Unsolved - True CrimeRyan had often referred to Shane as being "a robot." It wasn't that Shane didn't experience emotions. He just didn't outwardly express them, or talk about them with people he cared about. It simply made his life easier. It allowed him to avoid conflict, to deal with things logically and objectively, and most importantly, he wouldn't hurt anyone else in his life.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Huge Waste of Time

While Shane found it more convenient to set his emotions aside in any given moment when he was around others, he never really took the time to deal with them later. He had tried a few times to do some soul searching, journaling out his thoughts and feelings. That usually just ended up with him writing a bland description of his day, or not writing anything at all for months. 

On rare occasions, when things became a little too overwhelming to him, Shane would find his own way of dealing with things by himself. He wasn't entirely sure when the cutting had started, but he knew that mounting pressure from being one third of a self-started small business while still working part-time for an employer he was aching to get away from, things had certainly escalated. If anyone in his life noticed the fact that he had stopped wearing no sleeve shirts entirely, they didn't say anything. There was no reason for them to say anything, because there was no reason for them to bear witness to Shane's pain. 

That day had been particularly rough; an argument had broken out among their crew at work, they couldn't decide on whether to move a time slot or just add a new one, and the pair of chinos that Shane put on that day felt a little tighter than the last time he had worn them. Thoughts raced through his mind at lightening speed and he just wanted a break, a reprieve from all the insults and accusations of worthlessness his mind was hurtling at him. He sat on the edge of his bed, his room illuminated only by the lamp on his nightstand. He pulled open the drawer slowly and retrieved his utility knife. As he did so, he reasoned this might be a little easier if he were to take his shirt all the way off but he didn't feel like staring down at his body at the moment. He rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt, brushing his fingers lightly across the already red scarred skin. Shane let out a deep breath, taking the protective plastic covering off the knife. 

Shane picked up the knife, pressing it hard down onto his skin, and dragging out a long line with the blade. He winced sightly at the resulting sting, feeling a bit of relief as blood pooled at the sight of the cut. He closed his eyes, waiting for the calm to wash over him, for the tension to flow out of him. As he sat there, he felt uneasy, unsettled, not how he normally felt after doing this. He decided to cut himself again, considering perhaps he didn't go deep enough this time. He braced himself before slicing his skin once more, pressing down harder this time, moving the blade more slowly. This time, the blood dripped down his arm, warm, flowing quickly. Shane watched it and waited. Waited for that feeling of ease. As the blood began to dry and crust over the cut, Shane's heart started to race and he could feel the panic rising within him. 

This wasn't working anymore. It always had worked before. It always calmed him down. It always fixed things. 

Shane began breathing more rapidly, gripping tightly at his hair as he stood up and paced around the room. The worries from the day crept back into his immediate consciousness, as fresh as when he'd initially felt them. He tried and tried to quiet his mind but the thoughts kept getting louder and faster and meaner. Shane shakily placed the blade back down on his nightstand trying to figure out what to do to make it stop. He just wanted it to stop. What if things got worse after this? What if his mind never left him alone? What if his problems started spilling out and hurting everyone? Shane dashed out of his room, snatched the largest kitchen knife he could find and grabbed his keys. 

Ryan picked up his cellphone and unlocked it. He frowned. It was almost 10 PM and Shane hadn't replied to any of his texts since that one meme Ryan had sent him in the middle of the day. And Ryan had sent Shane two messages since then. Shane definitely had his own evening activities that he enjoyed, but he was so routine about it that Ryan knew when Shane would get to his texts. He would usually reply after dinner, and they'd have a little convo going while Shane half watched a movie, or after he'd spent a little while gaming. Unless Shane decided to shower right after dinner, which happened sometimes, in which case Ryan wouldn't hear from him until slightly later than that. If Shane decided to run that night, Ryan would usually receive a text before the aforementioned dinner time, and they'd banter back and forth about the other's workout habits. 

So Ryan sent him another text, just to ensure that his messages were going through. It looked like they were. 

Ryan stared at his phone, waiting for at least an indication that Shane was typing a message. 

It was possible that Shane had fallen asleep, but that wasn't something he normally did. Maybe Shane was out of popcorn and hadn't realized it until now. That could be the case. 

By 10:03 PM, Ryan messaged Shane that if he didn't answer his phone, Ryan was going to call him and sing "Friday" in the most obnoxious voice he could muster, right in Shane's ear. 

Still no reply. 

Ryan was getting antsy. Sure, things came up all the time, it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for something out of the ordinary to happen. If Ryan called Shane now he would likely be met with a lecture about how he was just waiting for something bad to happen, and that he always assumed the worst and--

At 10:04 PM, Ryan decided to call Shane. His heart pounded quickly and he could feel the edges of a cold sweat coming on. The dial tone felt achingly slow. He finally heard a click and it was the generic voicemail inbox. Shane received voicemails so infrequently that he hadn't even bothered to set up a message for himself. Right as the tone played for Ryan to leave a message, he ended the call, grabbed his keys and headed out toward his car. The tension crawled up his arms and settled uncomfortably into his shoulders, and he could already feel that his t-shirt was stained with sweat under his arms. He slid inside and began driving. 

Shane stepped out of his car, staring out at the forest around him. It was much darker out here away from the city lights and California smog. The air around him was fresh and cool, and in the quiet he could faintly hear the sounds of crickets chirping. Even though it had been his least memorable camping spot, it was still lovely in its own right. More than that though, he knew Ryan would never come looking for him here. It wasn't so amazing that Shane had raved about it and it wasn't so terrible that he'd ranted about it like a disgraced customer at a chain restaurant on Yelp. Plus, Shane had mentioned there had been several reports of black bear sightings; no attacks but as if that would have quelled Ryan's fears in the slightest. Shane retrieved the knife, tightening his grip around the handle. He started to feel the sense of calm he'd been so desperately searching as he made his way into the woods. 

He had barely made his way in there when he heard his name shouted much louder and much closer than he expected and it startled him enough that he stumbled forward slightly. A bright flash light shined in his eyes and Shane lifted his arm to block it. He felt something knock his wrist, and he dropped the knife as he was pulled to the side and into a bone-crushing hug. 

"Thank fucking god," came a desperate voice, cracking as it spoke. 

"Ryan?" Shane asked, staring down at him in shock. 

Ryan sobbed, the sound so pained and helpless that it sounded as if it had been ripped from Ryan's chest. Shane's arms immediately wrapped around Ryan, and he was surprised to find the other man shaking against him. Shane could feel his own t-shirt growing damp and was struck by just how much raw emotion was pouring from Ryan at once. Ryan pulled back and grabbed Shane's hand. 

"You're coming home with me," Ryan told him, his tone an odd combination of wounded devastation and firm determination. 

Shane was honestly too shocked to argue as he was essentially dragged back to Ryan's car. Ryan sat Shane in the passenger's seat before rounding the car to the driver's seat. When Ryan sat down, Shane felt his chest tighten. Ryan's face was streaked with tears, his eyes red and swollen. He wouldn't even look at Shane. 

"Don't you fucking say anything until I get you home," Ryan said, biting back another sob. 

The drive home was silent. Shane felt even more awful than he did before. This wasn't supposed to happen. He had intended to go deeper into the woods, somewhere remote enough away from people, and near enough to wildlife so that his corpse would be picked clean by the time anyone would think to look there and he could just...disappear. He had never seen Ryan so upset and he felt entirely unprepared for whatever awaited him. They arrived at Ryan's apartment and Ryan dragged Shane inside and into his room. Shane watched silently as Ryan closed and locked the door behind them. Shane's heart raced nervously. He was usually relatively decent at predicting and picking up on Ryan's emotions but right now, Shane didn't know what to expect. The room was uncomfortably silent and Ryan was just standing there, staring at him with an unreadable expression. It was normally Ryan who couldn't stand the silence, but Shane was so unsettled that he was the one to speak first. 

"How did you know where to find me?" Shane mumbled, dropping his gaze. 

Ryan stepped toward Shane and raised his arm. Shane winced, bracing for whatever it was Ryan was going to do. Shane froze as he felt Ryan's fingertips come to rest up against his neck, eyes widening when he realized Ryan was feeling for his pulse. Even though Ryan himself had dragged Shane out of the woods and to his apartment, Ryan still had to confirm for himself that Shane was alive. 

When Ryan spoke, his voice was even, but absolutely drenched in sadness. "I went where I figured you thought the last place I would look would be. You're pretty fucking predictable." 

Shane's throat felt dry, the more obvious question hovering on the tip of his tongue. "What tipped you off that something was...off?" he asked softly. 

Ryan sighed heavily, sounding more exhausted that Shane had ever heard. "You don't spend that much fucking time with a person over five fucking years and not know shit about them." 

Shane felt Ryan's other hand lightly grab his wrist, thumb resting against the pulse point there as well. 

"Are you even aware that you don't have a message set up for your voicemail inbox?" Ryan asked him. 

"I don't use my voicemail inbox," Shane replied. 

"Exactly," said Ryan. "You tired?" 

Shane blinked, not having expected to be asked that. However, when he thought about it he was exhausted. 

"Yeah," he admitted softly. 

Ryan pulled back slowly. "You take the bed. I'll take the couch." 

"What?" Shane asked in surprise. "No, Ryan I--" 

"If you try to run, I can get to you faster," Ryan cut him off. 

Shane felt those words like a punch to the gut. Ryan turned to leave but then stood still. He was quiet for a few moment, not moving. 

"Ryan?" Shane prompted. 

Ryan turned back around to face Shane, fingers reaching up to Shane's neck to feel for his pulse again. 

"It might be better if we both sleep here tonight," Ryan mumbled. 

Shane opened his mouth to protest, until he felt Ryan's forehead fall against his collarbone. 

"Okay," Shane agreed softly.


End file.
